


Friday in LA

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Alfonso Herrera and Christos Vasilopoulos [9]
Category: Actor RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), Greek Actor RPF, Mexican Actor RPF, Sense8 (TV) RPF, The Exorcist (TV) RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Alfonso Herrera/Christos Vasilopoulos storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Friday in LA

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Alfonso Herrera/Christos Vasilopoulos storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

Alfonso takes one look at the crowd gathering around the baggage carousels and thanks his lucky stars he's chosen to travel with only an overnight bag. He makes his way through the throngs of people, trying not to sigh too heavily at having to repeat again and again, "Excuse me, disculpe, permiso, excuse me..." reminding himself to relax, it's the weekend, and he's here to see Christos. But it's hard. He's naturally a little tightly wound and he's well aware that if he doesn't get to the taxi stand soon, all these people will be there along with him.

At first Christos doesn't see him, focused on the crowd by baggage claim as he is. But then he spots his lover, with that familiar long stride, lean and dark and gorgeous, and makes his way to his side just as Alfonso reaches the sidewalk. "I can take that for you, sir. I'll take you anywhere you want to go," he says with a smile.

There's something familiar about that voice but Alfonso still starts to politely decline before it sinks in and he turns to Christos. "You're here." He's struck by the urge to kiss him but quickly tamps down on it, wrapping an arm around Christos's neck in a quick hug. "I'm so glad to see you," he whispers.

Christos lets him off with the partial embrace, hugging him back around the waist. "I wasn't sure I could swing an early day, so I couldn't let you know sooner that I'd be here," he says, threading their way through the lines of cars outside the terminal and leading the way to the short-term parking lot. "How was your flight?"

"It was good," Alfonso says, following, a step behind Christos. "It seemed fast." Itching to touch his lover.

"That's the best you could hope for. For me, anyway," Christos says with a soft laugh, popping the trunk of his black Audi. "After all this time, I'm still a bit of a nervous flyer. You'd think I'd be over it by now." He looks up at his lover. "You look gorgeous. Edible."

"Gracias," Alfonso says with a small nod, putting his bag in the trunk. "You look really good too. Guapo. Handsome," he translates, glancing around before he dares a quick kiss to the corner of Christos's mouth.

Christos's lips quirk with pleasure. "Get in the car," he says, and thought his tone is mild, it's unmistakably an order.

Alfonso nods again and gets in on the passenger side, fastening his seatbelt.

Shutting the door behind him, Christos immediately leans over and takes Alfonso's face between his hands. Kissing him deeply, luxuriantly, beginning to make up for time away.

Alfonso moans into the kiss, stunned by just how much he missed this. Missed Christos.

"That's better," Christos murmurs, nibbling at Alfonso's bottom lip. "Twenty minutes, and I'll take good care of you," he promises, already aching to be inside his lover.

Alfonso shivers at that, his whole body humming with anticipation. "How did you manage to swing an early day?" he asks as Christos pulls out of the parking spot.

"I'll put in some extra hours next week. When I don't have something much better to occupy my time." They pull onto the highway and Christos turns the music down a bit. "Have you been thinking of me?"

"No, not at all," Alfonso says, managing to keep a straight face for all of five second before he relents and says, "Of course."

"Good." Christos's smile is wide. "I've been watching _Rebelde_ , by the way. The whole thing is streaming on Netflix now."

"Really?" Alfonso flushes, shaking his head. "I'm surprised you still came to pick me up."

"Are you kidding? You were adorable. That baby face... Although," Christos says, shaking his head, "always getting into fights. Was that part true to your nature?"

"No, not at all," Alfonso says, cheeks growing hotter and hotter. "I was one of the rich kids and very well liked at my school. I had things easy, except with my father."

Christos quirks a brow. "You talked some about him. I remember the way you talked made me think of my own father. What did yours do, to make so much money?"

"He founded a company called Herrechem with one of my uncles," Alfonso explains. "They produce plastic pipes and they're the third largest chemical and petrochemical company in Latin America."

"Ah." Christos blinks. When Alfonso said he'd grown up rich, he hadn't realized just how rich. "How ever did you manage to get out of his house and become an actor? I imagine he wanted you to carry on the family business."

Alfonso smiles. "He was surprisingly accepting of my wanting to act. Probably because it all happened so fast and I was so successful," he says. "Plus he was still a young man. The last thing he wanted was for me to challenge his position."

"Ahh, I see. My father was a butcher in my hometown," Christos offers, becoming increasingly conscious of the class differences between them. "Now my oldest brother Nikos runs the business."

Alfonso smiles. "My father's youngest brother is a chef. He runs a restaurant in Merida," he says. "Went a completely different way from my father and my other uncles."

"Do they still speak to him?" Christos glances aside then reminds himself to get his eyes back on the road, and keep them there. It's difficult when Alfonso flashes that gorgeous smile.

"Of course," Alfonso says with a nod. "He's the baby of the family."

Christos snorts a laugh. "I'm the baby of my family," he says with a wry grin. "I don't think it ever did me any favors." He signals for the turn-off, anxious to be home already.

"That's too bad," Alfonso says, meaning it. "That's the whole point of being the baby. Getting away with things no else does."

"Not in my father's house," Christos chuckles. "I think one of my favorite things about being out on my own was having an apartment to myself. It didn't matter how small, just that it was mine and I didn't have to share, or put up with everyone else's noise."

"And now?" Alfonso teases, unable to help himself. "Are you sure you want me in your space?"

"For you, I'll make an exception. Your presence has benefits. My brothers'— eh." Christos shrugs and pulls to a stop in the parking garage. Hopping out, he fetches Alfonso's bag from the trunk. He's a little worried now what his lover will think of his place, so small and plain. It suits him fine - although he wouldn't mind more room to stretch out - but it's simple. "This way."

Alfonso follows Christos as they make their way to the elevator, watching as Christos pushes the button for the 17th floor. "You're up high," he says with a nod. "Do you have a view?"

"I do. In the day it's grey and full of traffic, but at night is the best time to check it out. Fairy lights, as far as the eye can see." Christos unlocks the door and holds it open, leading the way into his apartment. Sure enough, the colorful sparkle from the wide bare windows catches the eye immediately, drawing one in.

Alfonso breaks into a smile, heading for the window. "This is really cool."

Christos relaxes somewhat, a little relieved by his response. "From the bedroom, you can watch the sunrise, when it's not too smoggy," he adds.

"It's not what I expected of you, other than the pictures," Alfonso says, as Christos gives him the tour, showing him the bedroom. "But I like it." He smiles at Christos.

"It's just a rental," Christos explains apologetically. "I love to watch all those extreme house shows. Someday I'll do a place for myself, but this suits my needs for now. Do you want to wash up, eat, rest?" He's itching to jump his lover.

Alfonso's smile turns a hint mischievous. "I thought you were going to take care of me - and I don't mean food or rest."

Christos grins. "So, what the fuck are you standing all the way over there for?" He reaches out and takes Alfonso's hand - there really is no "way over there" in this flat - and drags him into his arms, kissing his lover hungrily.

Even fantasizing about this all week doesn't match the reality. Alfonso whimpers softly into the kiss, instantly aching, hard and needy. Stunned by his own response. By the way all semblance of any dignity folds under Christos's mouth.

"You smell amazing," Christos whispers, his hands roaming over Alfonso's back. He begins to strip him, jacket and shirt thrown haphazardly to the floor, at work on his belt and jeans. "Want you naked."

"You too," Alfonso manages, tearing at Christos's clothes.

Christos steps back to pull off his shirt, kneeling down to unlace his boots. While he's crouched down he takes care of Alfonso's shoes too, tugging down his jeans as well. Getting to his feet, he shoves his lover back onto the bed and follows him down.

Alfonso spreads his thighs, making room for Christos, kissing him again and again, hands roaming over his lover's body. "I need you," he whispers, biting at his mouth.

God, that feels good. Alfonso's caresses, paired with his words... It's not a combination Christos expected to experience ever again, he realizes. He growls with need and grabs a bottle of lube from the bedside table, drizzling some into his fingers. Pressing one to Alfonso's tight hole.

"Si," Alfonso moans, spreading his thighs even wider, Christos cradled between them, his whole body aching for this, for more, his cock smearing precome across his belly. "Si, mas... please..."

 _Someday I'll take you bare_ , Christos thinks, though it's not a sentiment he'd dare share aloud. He fucks two fingers smoothly in and out of Alfonso's body, twisting to catch his prostate and teasing at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Lapping at his neck and nipping at his collarbone.

Writhing shamelessly on those fingers, Alfonso lapses into his mother tongue, cursing and begging softly, constantly.

His prick aches with need but Christos steels himself to patience. It's only Alfonso's first night here, he doesn't want him too sore to play tomorrow... Finally, though, he gives in and unrolls a condom into place, spreading Alfonso's ass open with his hands and pushing inside.

"Oh fuck yes," Alfonso blurts, biting at his lower lip, a guttural groan coming from him as Christos sinks deeper.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn sexy," Christos moans. He covers Alfonso with his body and starts to move, long slow thrusts. Pulling out almost the whole way then sliding back inside. Languidly he licks along the stubbled line of Alfonso's jaw.

Alfonso hooks his ankles over Christos's legs, careful not to interfere with his movements, his hands roaming over his lover's back and shoulders, urging him on. "So are you," he whispers back, struggling to speak at all, it's that good.

"I missed you." It's as much as Christos will let himself say. Lust swirls through him, Alfonso's body opening again and again. Welcoming him in.

"Did you?" Alfonso holds Christos's gaze, whimpering softly, his cock so achingly hard between them.

"Yes." Christos kisses his lover, shifting enough that he can take Alfonso's cock in hand and stroke slowly in time with the motion of his hips.

"Oh, god," Alfonso whines, shocked at the sound of his own voice. "I'm too close," he warns Christos.

"You're perfect. Come with me," Christos says, speeding up his thrusts. Tipping over that vast edge.

Alfonso cries out, heading going back as he comes so hard between them, thick threads of white coating Christos's fingers and his own stomach.

Christos groans and presses his face to the hollow of Alfonso's shoulder. He thrusts three more times, twice, chasing every aftershock. Reveling at being so deeply buried in his lover, accepted there. He lifts his head and kisses Alfonso, licking inside to taste him.

Again Alfonso whimpers into the kiss, absolutely shattered. He's never reacted so strongly to anyone before and his mind is whirling.

Lingering over it, Christos kisses Alfonso's lips, his cheek, his throat before he finally makes himself ease out, one hand gripping the rubber. "I'll be right back," he whispers, heading into the bathroom to clean up. Returning a minute later with a warm damp washcloth to take care of his lover.

"I'm usually much more in control of myself," Alfonso says, watching Christos wipe his stomach clean. And not nearly so helpless, although it feels good to be cared for like this.

Christos quirks a brow, uncertain just what he means by that. Tossing the cloth into the hamper, he gets back in bed and pulls Alfonso close. "I think it's sexy when you're not."

"Yes, well that's because you're the one making me go all... gooey," Alfonso finishes, thinking he's using the word right.

"I get gooey sometimes when you smile at me," Christos murmurs, breathing a kiss into Alfonso's hair. "Nothing wrong with that." Although if anything, his lover sounds a little put out.

"No, I guess not," Alfonso agrees softly, burrowing into Christos's embrace, not at all sure why he's being so difficult or why he's so rattled.

Christos raises an eyebrow, but doesn't press. Just rubs Alfonso's back with long slow strokes of his hand. "In a couple minutes, I'll get up and start dinner."

"Okay," Alfonso nods but he tightens his grip on Christos, reluctant to have him move.

Touched, Christos relaxes back, continuing the gentle caresses. "This feels good," he whispers, and reaches to turn off the bedside lamp. The city lights are bright outside the bare windows, the sun having set. "Just having you here with me, like this."

Alfonso nods again. "I could hardly wait to see you," he whispers, a solemn confession. "I couldn't stop thinking about you this week."

"That makes me very happy." Christos isn't sure just what Alfonso is overcoming by saying such a thing, but he knows it doesn't come lightly. "I like feeding you and fucking you. And thinking about you."

That makes Alfonso smile. "How much do you think of me?" he asks, tipping his head back.

A laugh rumbles in Christos's chest. "More than I should when I'm at work," he answers, threading his fingers through Alfonso's hair. "My mind always wanders back to you."

"Me too," Alfonso says softly. "I'm not used to that."

"Does it bother you?" A cowardly question, when what Christos really means is _Does it scare you?_

"Yes." Alfonso nods. "I feel like I could lose myself in you, in this, us."

Christos rolls them so Alfonso is beneath him, and he can see his lover's beautiful eyes. "How bad could it be?" he asks softly, and though the question may sound flippant, he asks honestly.

"I don't know but it scares me," Alfonso says, not quite meeting Christos's gaze. "I don't want to lose sight of my goals. I've worked so hard and already made so sacrifices."

Blowing out a breath, Christos sits up to straddle his lover. "You think I'm that powerful? To distract you now, when you've come so far?"

"It's not you," Alfonso points out. "It's what I feel for you, what I _could_ feel for you."

Slowly Christos smiles. He points a finger. "You _like_ me!"

Alfonso flushes hot. "Si, I already said I did," he protests.

God, that's adorable, that hint of discomfort on Alfonso's cheeks. "Give in," Christos says softly, taking mercy and leaning down to nuzzle his throat. "I won't mess up your career, it'll just be good for both of us. You don't have to fight anymore."

"Promise?" Alfonso says quietly.

"I promise. I won't let you get lost," Christos whispers. "You don't have to be afraid of us." He brushes a kiss over Alfonso's lips, seeking entry but waiting for an invitation.

On the one hand Alfonso shouldn't need Christos to make that promise. He's a grown man, responsible for his own life, his own destiny. But that's the whole point. He's been so single-mindedly focused on his own goals that stepping away from that at all, letting any part of it go, seems catastrophic. But then isn't having someone in your life supposed to be having someone to share your burdens, your hopes, your dreams, to help you stay on that path? So yes, he does need that promise. He needs to see the truth in Christos's gaze, hear the sincerity in his voice. Know that whatever he's giving up he's getting so much more in return. "Okay," he whispers. "I trust you." Kissing Christos back.

 _I trust you_. They might be the three most seductive words in the English language. Christos kisses Alfonso deeply, trying to tell him without speech what he means to him, trying to reassure him that his trust isn't misplaced.

And Alfonso kisses back, clinging to Christos, laying bare the need he's been trying to fight for so long.

This is it, what Christos has been waiting for without even fully identifying it. This feeling like for once he's not kept at arm's length. He kisses Alfonso, their tongues sliding together, their bodies aligned. He's endlessly fascinated by this man, and being let in feels like a taste of heaven.

Alfonso moans into Christos's mouth, arching up against him, already aching again, wishing he could get even closer.

Sitting up again, Christos draws Alfonso's wrists over his head. Pins him down while he ducks his head again and licks up the column of Alfonso's throat.

Alfonso pushes against Christos's grip, testing it, whimpering at the strength behind it and the feel of his lover's tongue on his skin.

Hunger roils in Christos's gut. He grinds down against his lover, their cocks rubbing together, and sharply bites the tender flesh just beneath Alfonso's jaw. Barely restraining himself before he leaves a mark.

With a soft cry, Alfonso arches against Christos, grinding back, begging for more. "Por favor..."

"You're so hot. So fucking sexy," Christos murmurs, lapsing into his native Greek. Usually he works to keep it to English but right now he's too distracted. He snags another condom from the bedside table and pushes Alfonso's knees up, making room for himself. Biting his lip hard and penetrating slowly.

"Si, si," Alfonso chants, tilting his hips back, his knees higher, moaning as Christos slides inside him, filling him slowly, reigniting the embers from the earlier. "Bueno, es muy bueno."

"Muy bueno," Christos breathes, dropping his head to press against Alfonso's shoulder. Now, the second time, he can make this last with some semblance of self-control, and the movement of his hips as he rocks into his lover is slow, sinuous.

"No, tell me in Greek," Alfonso whispers, hips curling up to meet every thrust, to bury Christos inside him as deeply as he can.

" _Voli khala_." Christos grins and kisses his lover, pleased.

"Voli khala," Alfonso repeats, moaning into Christos's mouth, his cock already hard again, aching between them.

"You are voli khala for me," Christos murmurs, nuzzling Alfonso's throat. "I want to be the same for you."

"You are, oh god, you are," Alfonso whispers, whimpering softly.

"And you're going to come for me again?" It's less a question than a command, though it's delivered in a gentle tone. Christos has no intention of accepting "no" for an answer. He slides one hand up Alfonso's chest to toy with his nipple.

"I'll try," Alfonso promises, shifting to get some friction on his cock, his wrists still held in Christos's grip.

Christos grins hungrily and grasps Alfonso's cock, beginning to pull in long smooth strokes that match the rhythm of his hips.

Alfonso bites his lip so hard he draws blood, everything focused on how good this feels, how much he wants to please Christos. It only takes a minute before he's crying out, body clenching tight around Christos's cock as his own manages a few more thick spurts.

Christos lays his hand on Alfonso's belly and slowly slides it up to his throat, thoroughly dirtying him with his own seed. "You're wonderful," he whispers, already dreading the moment when he'll have to pull out and separate them.

"So are you," Alfonso whispers back, wide-eyed, swallowing against a throat gone dry. "Increible."

A faint smile curves Christos's lips. He licks Alfonso's throat and slowly pulls away, rolling off the bed to grab some tissues. He feels like he should say something - something else, anyway - but he's got no words.

"You need to feed me now," Alfonso says softly, smiling, stretching out against Christos's sheets.

"Of course. Fuck you, then feed you — it's the natural order." Christos grins and slips into the bathroom. Soon, though, he disappears into the kitchen, to drizzle infused oil into a hot skillet and begin slicing vegetables for stir-fry.

Alfonso's not really sure if he's supposed to stay in bed or follow Christos out. In the end, he decides to quickly wash up, slip his jeans back on, and join his lover in the kitchen. "How long have you lived here?"

"Only a couple of years. Before that, I was based in Vancouver, and before that, I spent time in New York City," Christos explains. He pauses in his work to give his lover a smile. It feels so good to have Alfonso here while he cooks, like it's just a normal part of his life.

"Which did you like best?" Alfonso asks, watching Christos cook, fascinated by how easy it is for him, how skilled he is.

"I loved Vancouver. It had all the good points of New York but it was cleaner, nicer. Here? Eh." Christos shrugs. "It's exciting here, and there's always something going on, but I get tired of how obsessed with their appearance everyone is. It's like people are constantly for sale."

"It's very fake," Alfonso nods. "Very plastic."

"Exactly." Christos nods and tosses strips of marinated beef into the pan. "You can really forget what's important when you're in L.A. You can lose your head."

"Have you ever lost your head?" Alfonso asks, smiling. "You've been exposed to a lot of very beautiful people at Citadel."

There's a little smile at the question, like Christos is letting him in on a joke. "Only once," he answers, shooting his lover a wink.

Alfonso blushes, there's no other word for it.

Christos's smile widens, but he lets it go with a shake of his head. "I forgot to ask if you're on any special diet because of your filming schedule," he says, fixing up a plate of sizzling food and setting it down on the table. "Do sexy priests have to show their abs at all?" He's hoping not, because he's only got beer to drink.

"Not as a rule but I like to keep in shape," Alfonso says. "I don't do special diets though." He grins. "You caught me scarfing down Chinese the other night."

"Good." Christos fetches them both beers and sits down opposite at the small table. "My former boss was an actor, and he used to have to do these extreme hard-protein diets and trainings because they were always showing him shirtless. I respected him enough not to indulge in front of him, but... I didn't join in, either." He pops the cap on his beer. "Cheers to you. I'm happy you're here."

"I'm happy I'm here too," Alfonso says, smiling back and clinking his beer against Christos's. "I really like Vancouver but it's nice to get away. It feels like an actual break."

"Good." Christos nods in satisfaction. "Have you begun learning your lines for your play already?" He's looking forward to watching _Dead Poets Society_ , whether Alfonso is comfortable with it or not.

"Si, but at this point I'm just reading through again and again. Hoping it sinks in by, what do you call it..." he shrugs, at a loss for the word in English. "Never mind. But when the season finishes, I'll be doing nothing but that."

"Then that's another thing you don't need to do while you're here," Christos says with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Unless you'd like to show off for me. That's okay, so long as it doesn't feel like work."

"I have it with me," Alfonso admits, digging into the stir-fry with an appreciative groan. "If you want to read with me, we can."

"All right." Christos follows suit, spearing a hot pepper and then washing it down with beer. "I was thinking we could do a dawn hike of the canyon while you're here, unless you'd rather sleep. The sunrise is spectacular when the smog isn't too bad."

"No, no, drag me out of bed and make me go," Alfonso says, protein settling his stomach. The last time he'd eaten was lunch and he'd been so busy with phonecalls, he'd barely touched his food. "I can sleep in Sunday, yes?"

"Of course. You can sleep in tomorrow if you want, too. We don't have to go." Christos cuts a strip of beef into smaller pieces with a soft laugh. "But I promise it'll be worth it."

"No, I want to go," Alfonso insists. "And hiking's better in the morning."

"It is. Then we can come back and shower together, and just laze around the rest of the day if you want." Christos grins. "We don't even have to get dressed again."

Alfonso grins back. "What about food? Shouldn't you at least wear an apron while cooking for me? We don't want any important parts getting burned."

"Would you like to see that, me in an apron for you?" Christos laughs, picturing himself. He's fairly certain he'd look absurd. "We'll sort something out."

"Good." Alfonso smiles, taking another sip of beer, the way Christos's laugh lights up his face making his heart flutter. "Maybe you could teach me to cook something."

"I could do that. We'll make a chef of you yet." Christos sits back with a sigh, replete. "Tonight, we're going to finish that movie. The one we started but never made it through."


End file.
